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Ella Bartlett: a poem

Before my daily cigarette

Lied to the bread seller

Bruised my left pinky

Washed away pipe dreams

Argued for risotto & onions

to fill up our fridge

Said the words leave you

Wondered wilfully about

farming again, yellow

kale flowers between

fingertips. Itched for œuillets

Finished a book

Waited for the sun

to burn through pale fabric

Waited for my French

to be corrected, wanted to –

but never did – speak English

except when I was tired

or too sad to care, or

Left a large pile of dishes

tilting on the sink's edge,

stained with fresh tomatoes

and their slippery green seeds.

Ella Bartlett is a graduate student in literature at the Sorbonne Nouvelle in Paris. Her work has appeared in decomP magazine, JetFuel Review, and in zines such as Unearth and Crossroads. You can follow her here: @EllatheRewriter.


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